


I'll Be in the Trees

by Scofield



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 12:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11898186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scofield/pseuds/Scofield
Summary: Prompt: A Joshler fic in which Tyler stems from a very Christian household where being heterosexual is highly enforced. During a family vacation, Tyler succumbs to his urge to self-harm and decides to go for a walk where he meets a boy named Josh who offers Tyler a place to stay and breakfast in the morning. Tyler soon finds out that Josh and he attend the same school and live in the same neighborhood, which becomes a problem when Tyler begins to develop feelings for this boy, which he must keep a secret. Josh, blissfully unaware of Tyler's feelings, continues to encourage him to pursue his passions and helps Tyler to survive, one day at a time.





	1. Running Away

**Author's Note:**

> Self-Harm warning

Tyler wasn't always miserable on holiday but the last few months had passed in a quick fog and before he could wrap his mind around what was happening, he hurt himself again. He tried to reason with himself as he carefully wrapped the new Schick razor in a bath towel, I feel better. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes were red and his hair was sticking up in several directions from burying his head in his night clothes to cry in silence. A familiar stranger had emerged from within his subconscious and made a surprise appearance on his family holiday in San Francisco in the form of wet red blotches. He looked at his reflection's t-shirt. His already stinging eyes burned with more dry tears as he watched his blood soak through the white fabric and expand. Behind the now-red fabric his stomach churned with the sinking sadness that he was so familiar with. He balled the hem of his t-shirt tightly in his hand and clenched his jaw at the growing ache that was slowly sliding itself towards his throat. But Tyler felt the muscles in his esophagus tighten. Not sadness.  
He stumbled away from the sink and collapsed onto his knees before the small porcelain bowl just as his stomach began to wretch. He gripped the side tightly and all at once his body crumpled, his muscles tightened, and he expelled the contents of his stomach. His throat burned and he could only manage a single breath before he heaved the last of the evening's lunch into the bowl. He closed his eyes as if not looking would change the last fifteen seconds and reached for the small metal handle. It was cool under his fingertips, a pleasant contrast to the blazing in his face. He coughed, trying to clear the bile from his throat and he spit. He could taste the stomach acid with each gasping breath and he quickly pulled the handle before his stomach could expel itself from within his abdomen. He fell backward onto his butt. He tried to stop himself there but his body was far too exhausted and so he continued falling until his shoulder blades connected with the floor.  
He thought his heart might stop; he hoped it would just so he wouldn't have to walk from the bathroom with his head hung low to avoid his mother's eye. He hoped it to stop so he wouldn't have to hide another t-shirt in the trash. He hoped it would stop so he wouldn't have to explain to his parents why he had to be excused from dinner due to being ill for the third time this week and he definitely didn't want Zack asking so many questions again; questions that Tyler didn't have the answers to. He hoped that if he lied there and didn't breathe the world around him would fade away, into darkness where he felt he belonged. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to look at the ceiling any longer because he knew that if he thought about where he was, he would be sick again.  
Scream. He wanted to curl into a ball on the tile, clamp his hands over his ears and scream but he didn't want to move. He didn't deserve to scream. He deserved to lie there on the grimy tiles and suffer alone, just as he knew he was. At that thought he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, ignoring the warm burn behind his eyelids. He kept them closed until he couldn't handle the dull ache. When his eyes slowly flickered open he was met with the same ceiling, his heart hadn't stopped and he would have to hide another t-shirt in the trash. He swallowed hard but his saliva caught in his raw esophagus. He coughed; a loud, wet, painful choking before a series of quieter gasps.  
He heard footsteps coming down the hall and he held his breath in prayer that they would continue pass. A light knock on the door was followed by the gentle voice of a woman. "Tyler, honey?" More knocks. "Are you alright in there?"  
No. Tyler just wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and scream but he couldn't do that. He couldn't tell his mom what was happening, she wouldn't understand. She would be angry, angry enough to reinforce the cruel and awfully sad thoughts swirling around inside his head. But he didn't answer her. He could hear more footsteps coming down the hall. He closed his eyes and he prayed for silence.  
"Tyler what are you doing?" Her voice was laced with concern and Tyler hated himself for causing her distress. She didn't deserve to worry so much, especially not about him when he didn't deserve it.  
His throat felt tight. He didn't want anybody worrying about him, he was fine. He thought he felt better than when he entered the bathroom half an hour earlier and that was enough to allow him the lie. "I'm fine." But was he really fine? If Tyler was being honest with himself, he hadn't felt better. The looming thoughts of his mother's disappointment made him feel worse, but how was it even possible for him to feel any worse?  
The doorknob turned back and forth in a futile attempt to push the door open but Tyler had remembered to lock the door when he entered, creating a momentary safe haven. "We're ordering out and it's your night to choose."  
His stomach couldn't handle food and dinner was the farthest thought from his mind but he couldn't cause his mother any more worry, so he responded with simple words. The only words he could think of, "I ate earlier."  
He hadn't realized he moved while his mom was at the door, but as he felt his head resting against the wall he took a second to look around. He had wedged himself into the corner farthest from the door and his hands were holding his stomach. He pulled them away with a hiss as a sharp pain rocketed through his core. He bit down on his tongue tried to fight back the tears that were now flowing down his cheeks. His hands were spotted with red and his t-shirt looked horrible. For the first time since he wrapped up the razor he lifted the fabric from his torso and dragged it over his head. He listened for his mom as he dabbed his skin dry and only when he was sure the bleeding stopped did he reach for his clean shirt.  
He slid it carefully over his head and draped it loosely over his aching stomach. His teeth released his tongue and he licked his lips. His tears left a layer of salt that tasted excessively bitter tonight and he wiped that away too. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about how red his face had become from crying, he knew his mom heard him retching and writhing over the toilet but he still felt the incessant need to hide his face. Not in shame. Tyler wasn't ashamed, he was afraid. Nothing scared Tyler more than the possibility of being caught, so he carefully rolled up his bloody t-shirt and hid it in a pair of dirty jeans so he could walk back into the room and place it in the bottom of his suitcase to dispose of when he arrived home. But he didn't stop thinking. He worried about his mom stopping him on the way out for a hug, causing him to bleed again. He worried of his shirt lifting while he slept and exposing the fresh cuts. He worried about showering in the morning and the chance his parents would hear him crying over the water. He worried about Zack wanting to go down to the pool after dinner and wondering why Tyler didn't want to go with him. He worried about his parents catching him throwing his food in the garbage when they weren't looking and asking why he was sick so often. He worried about not being able to speak tomorrow from his stomach acid shredding his throat. If there was ever a time for Tyler to feel worse than when he entered the bathroom it would be now.  
He held his jeans tightly to his chest and opened the door. To his surprise, his mom was no longer standing there. She was sitting across the room fixing the bed Tyler would sleep in. He hugged his clothes tighter and crossed the threshold, leaving the safety he had created in the hotel bathroom. He kept his eyes low. He didn't want to look at his parents in fear of heaving again so he slowly made his way over to the bed and sunk to the floor. Without a word he slid his suitcase from beneath it and unzipped it just enough to stick his hand inside and cram the evidence to the bottom.  
Sick. The feeling returned to his throat and he froze. He silently begged not to be sick again. He couldn't handle the thought of his family seeing him sick, especially not when his mom heard him choking in the bathroom. The burning sensation began behind his eyes again and he took shallow breaths to calm himself, to keep the sadness down. He had to keep it all inside so he could be normal, and that's what Tyler desperately wanted; normal. He released a slow and shaky breath as he zipped his suitcase and pushed it back under the bed. When he withdrew his hands he noticed they were sweaty and he tried to dry them on his shorts. Wiping, dragging them slowly over the fabric until he was tired of trying. He then slowly rose to his feet and connected eyes with his mom. She gave him a weary smile and that felt like a harpoon through his heart. He didn't want to look at her, he didn't want to be in the same room as her with the sensation of the blade against his skin still lingering. He wanted to leave, but where would he go? What sounded reasonable enough for him to leave? He was taking too long to think, her weary smile faded into creases of concern on her forehead and Tyler needed a reason to leave, now. "C-can I get a candy bar?" She cocked her head to the side and he remembered being sick no more than five minutes ago. His heart thumped rapidly within his chest and he could already feel the cold sweat setting in. He said the next thing that popped into his mind, "For tomorrow?" It was a quiet request and he was surprised to see her features soften.  
Without a verbal response she walked to the table in the kitchen and dug out a ten dollar bill from the bottom of her purse. Tyler walked after her and hesitantly took the note from her hand. He didn't think she would provide him with money; he had his own. He slipped the ten into his pocket anyway and awaited her demand of being back in five, but it never came. Instead she gently kissed his forehead and ran her hand through his unruly hair. "Be careful."  
He nodded and slipped into the bathroom to replace his shorts with a pair of jeans. He changed quickly to avoid suspicion and without another word he put on his shoes, grabbed his sweatshirt and left. He ambled down the long hallway with his eyes on the floor. He was sure his face was still blotchy and his eyes must still be red and puffy because they stung. He blinked hard in an attempt to relieve the pain but it only seemed to make it worse. He tried rubbing one eye at a time but that didn't work either. He cursed himself for being so small and weak. He thought about cutting himself when he arrived back at the room. If he waited until they all went to bed to walk back he would have the time and the privacy to do as he pleased. He just wanted to feel good, to be happy like Zack and the rest of the kids at school, but as he caught sight of his reflection in the elevator doors his stomach dropped. He couldn't have fooled his mother. She must have known something was up just by his bloodshot eyes and Tyler couldn't handle that thought, so he decided to get as far away from her as he could.   
He pressed the arrow indicating 'down' and wiped the surfacing tears in his eyes. The little button blinked a low red glow in the dimly lit hall and Tyler found himself focusing on it, trying to make his pain disappear with the light. He wished it would all go away and in the back of his mind he knew it would only get worse before it got better but if he couldn't handle the sadness already, there was no way he could handle more of it. However, his plea to stop thinking was answered as the metal doors slid open with a quiet 'ding', and to his fortune the elevator was baron. He stepped inside and took his place leaning against the wall by the small touch panel. He pressed the button on the screen with the 'L' and fell back into the unwelcoming metal. With another quiet 'ding' the doors began to close.  
A flustered voice called from down the hallway, alarming Tyler with its abrupt presence. "Hold the doors!" It echoed loudly into the elevator and before he had a chance to move from his spot, a boy ran sideways between the doors and into the back wall in a black flash. Tyler turned to see a boy with bright red hair who appeared to be about his own age, dressed entirely in black and gasping for air. He had a smug smile on his face and he nodded in thanks. Tyler didn't have the energy to admit he didn't in fact hold the doors so he remained silent. He didn't look directly at the boy and he didn't exactly watch him from the corner of his eye. He stared at the opposite wall and yet he somehow saw the boy's every move. Tyler saw him stand up straight and look at the touch panel with a sigh of relief. "Cool, you're already going to the lobby." Tyler said nothing. He didn't acknowledge the boy at all.  
It felt like a chisel was being driven into each of his eyes. He could feel the tears returning and he wanted to cry out in pain but only did Tyler wipe them away when he saw the other boy scrolling through his phone. He seemed not to notice. Tyler silently thanked whatever God there was for his small stroke of luck and he regrettably decided to take another chance. His nose was running like a waterfall and he couldn't wait it out any longer. He sniffed; not once but twice and his nose was so congested it didn't seem to make much of a difference so he used the inside of his sleeve. The boy took notice.  
He looked up from his phone and he must have seen Tyler's eyes, or maybe the blotchiness of his face and put the two together. He didn't bother locking his phone when he slid it into his pocket. Tyler saw this. "Yo-k?" The boy's words came out slowly but somehow he managed to merge the two simple words together and it hurt Tyler. He couldn't put enough effort into the question to speak normally.  
Tyler didn't want to talk to this boy, he didn't want to talk to anybody. He hoped the boy would forget he asked him anything and go back to his phone. He began to question why this boy asked; it was a simple sniff-. Oh. Tyler forgot to put his hood up when he left the room and the boy probably saw him crying in the corner like a baby. Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he be like Zack and be happy? He let out a shaky breath at the thought of his brother, he had no idea how he was going to explain where he went tonight because he was certain Zack would ask. As he thought he caught a glimpse of the stranger still staring at him, patiently waiting for an answer. "I'm fine."  
There it was, the second time he's used that lie in the past fifteen minutes but this time his response wasn't as solid. He gave Tyler a sideways glance from where he stood; he wasn't fooled. "Are you sure?"  
No.  For a split second Tyler considered telling the truth for once but that quickly passed. If he couldn't tell his best friend about his sadness then he couldn't tell a complete stranger. Therapy never worked for him and that was almost the same thing. He glanced at the touch panel and saw the current floor they were passing. Twenty. If he could just stall for a few more minutes he could get away from the boy and he wouldn't have to explain anything. Nineteen. Tyler shifted uncomfortably under his stare and he tried to mask his nervousness by focusing on keeping his breathing steady. In, hold it, out; in, hold it, out. Eighteen. He was no longer on the verge of tears but his eyes burned with a rage. After an hour of crying his eyes became incapable of producing any moisture and he was severely in need of eye drops, which were back in the room; another thing he would look forward to when he eventually returned from his trip to the convenience store. Seventeen. But he didn't want to come straight back to the hotel. Sixteen. He could feel his palms beginning to sweat again but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. In fact, he didn't want this boy staring at him at all and he suddenly realized how self-conscious he felt. Fifteen. His hair was still sticking up, he hadn't fixed it and his face must have been enough cause for concern. Even though Tyler didn't know this boy, he couldn't help but to feel exposed and vulnerable. Why was this boy so interested in him? Fourteen. Tyler hadn't acknowledged him or even gotten a good look at his face. Thirteen. He felt like he was being examined under a microscope. Twelve. His body was overwhelmed with warmth and he could feel the focus of the heat in his face. Eleven. His heart rate increased drastically and he could feel the sweat forming on his forehead as he watched the numbers count down on the touch panel. They weren't moving fast enough and Tyler was taking too long to answer because the boy said something behind him but he had been so focused on the numbers that he didn't actually hear what the boy said. Ten. He didn't want to ask and he didn't want to look at him, he just wanted this boy to leave him alone. Nine. He wasn't important enough for this boy's attention. He didn't deserve it. Eight. Great. He was causing somebody else to worry. Seven. Maybe he should apologize. Six. He should tell this boy he's fine and he should apologize for making him worry. Five. But it was so close, he was almost to the lobby where he could leave the hotel and get to the convenience store. Four. He hoped the boy would stop worrying about a total stranger and let Tyler leave the elevator in peace. Three. So close to freedom. Tyler began to fidget with the hem of his sweatshirt again. Two. What did he want from the convenience store? He was almost in the mood for coffee. One. Maybe he would get a bag of Doritos when he got there. He wasn't in the mood for food but shitty convenience store junk food made his stomach growl. Lobby. Finally!  
As soon as the doors slid open enough for his slender frame, he slipped through. He zipped his sweatshirt and pulled the hood over his head. Maybe he was hiding from the boy in the elevator, or maybe he was trying to hide from himself; trying to become somebody else. That would be nice. Tyler would love nothing more than to be somebody else and to abandon his worries and responsibilities. What about the kid in the elevator? He seemed like a happy kid; he was kind enough to ask Tyler if he was alright, not a very good attempt, but he asked nonetheless. Still, Tyler wished he hadn't. He wasn't worth the worry, so why did so much worry surround him? He didn't understand why the kid didn't degrade him for having puffy eyes and a blotchy face. Everybody he knew did, and nearly every stranger that he's encountered. That kid was probably texting his friends right now about how pathetic Tyler was. Why wouldn't he? But more importantly; why shouldn't he? Tyler deserved it. What kind of kid leaves a hotel room crying and nearly has an anxiety attack when spoken to?  
He should have stayed in the room and gone to bed, he had no business going out into the city alone so close to midnight where he could be stabbed or robbed; that's what his mom told him anyway. She was always so worried about him. Maybe she could sense his unhappiness with that whole intuition crap, or maybe she just picked up on something because he spends a lot of time in the bathroom and doesn't eat much anymore. That reminded him; he would have to be more sneaky. He couldn't have his mom suspecting anything or she would get mad. For once he wished he and Zack could switch places; just once he wished he could be his carefree older brother. He sighed. What a shitty thought. Everybody loved Zack and he couldn't take that kind of pressure. He really didn't like that thought; it stressed him out.  
When Tyler was finally pulled from his thoughts he noticed he was standing below the neon 7/11 sign with his hand on the door. He looked quickly through the glass, noticed nobody was inside, and pulled the door open. The cashier was leaning wither her elbows on the counter as as tapped the screen of her phone. Tyler took little notice of her and walked to the back of the store. The aisles were completely empty except for one guy standing in front of the coffee machine. He appeared to be in his fifties and he looked intimidating to Tyler, so he decided to avoid him and get his chips first. He turned around as walked into the last aisle. Chips lined the shelves to his left and candy on his right. His eyes scanned over the options and took-in all of the colors before choosing a pack of Reese's Cups and a Butterfinger. He then abandoned the chancy shelves and turned to grab two bags of Nacho flavored Doritos, the only red bag that caught his eye. He pulled the first bag off the shelf and place it between his teeth; the second bag was then held between his first two fingers in the same hand the candy was being carried. From the snack aisle he walked to the very back where numerous coolers held drinks. He opened a door without looking and took a Coke between his last two fingers and a Mtn. Dew between his first two. Now he was ready to get his coffee.  
He wove his way through the aisles, wasting as much time as he could to ensure the creepy trucker wouldn't still be there. He passed more snacks, small shelves of cell phone accessories, packs of soda, and other junk he reached the coffee maker again. Just as he hoped, the man has finished and moved to the register. Tyler approached the counter top and set the sodas next to the stir sticks. He took an extra large cup and filled it. He left just enough room to add creamer and sugar, and when he was satisfied he took a top for his cup. He mixed the caramel-colored liquid quickly, ignoring the sloshing and the small drops forming on the counter. He then threw the stick in the garbage and hastily snapped the top onto his cup. He piled everything into his arms and carefully began making his way to the register. He focuses on each object, making sure he wouldn't drop something. That would bring too much attention from the cashier and that would embarrassing. He wouldn't be able to come here for the rest of his vacation if he did that; adding it to a list of stores he avoids. But after he successfully made it to the register and spilled his arm's contents onto the counter he felt better. He felt like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders in those short fifteen feet, but it felt good. It was a good victory and he was proud of himself for making it this far without worrying about-. Wait. Was she judging him? Was she wondering why one kid needed so much junk food? Oh no, maybe she saw his face and made a mental note to tell her friends what a baby he was. Don't do this now.  
He wanted to cry. His chest felt tight and his throat felt like it was closing around a block; he couldn't have uttered a word if his life depended on it. He could feel the shakiness beginning in his hands and at that moment he wanted to run from the register and sprint back to the hotel in tears, there was no way he could hand the cashier anything with his horrible trembling. "Twelve ninety-six." Her voice was so cheery and it made Tyler more nervous. But it was only thirteen dollars. Hand her thirteen dollars and then he could leave. He dug into his pocket for the ten his mom had given him and three dollars of his own money. He threw the ten on the punter and dug out his wallet. The cashier seemed to be staring at him impatiently, which only made his thoughts and movements more choked. He was feeling more self-conscious than he had when he sulked out of the hotel bathroom. He couldn't handle her stare, her piercing eyes boring into his soul as he fumbled clumsily for the cash within the leather pocket. Three dollars, then he could tell her to keep the change and get the hell out of there. It wasn't that hard of a task, he knew how to pay for things but for some reason he was feeling extra anxious tonight. Even before he cut himself he had felt on edge all day, and he thought that his anxiety would run away with the blood that spilled into the sink, but it hadn't.  
Tyler pulled three bills from his wallet and slapped them on the counter without meeting her eye. She took the money, pressed a few keys on the register and pulled four pennies out of the tray but when she extended her hand to drop them Tyler was gone. He felt like a coward but he didn't turn back. He kept walking past neon signs, closed shops, street lamps, and people every now and again until he arrived at. Park that bordered a forest; twenty minutes from his hotel. But had he really walked that far? He looked at the park in disbelief but decided he wasn't going to pass-up an opportunity to climb. He wanted to drink his coffee first so he chose the swing at the end of the set and placed the bag next to his feet. He blew gently into the cup through the small hols intended for drinking an admired the silliness. Nobody else was at he park or within speaking distance as nothing moved except Tyler and his swing. The only things he could hear were the crickets in the distance as his own breathing. The silence was refreshing. It relaxed him a bit to know that the city was sleeping and nobody was going to bother him. He watched the trees, he tried to pick the best one for climbing and even though his stomach stung from the cuts, he was at peace. He was content.  
He could smell his coffee musing which the scent of wood and leaves from the forest and it made him smile. He hadn't found a reason to sneak away and explore the park but now that he was here he didn't want to go back to the hotel. He was no longer on edge from the cuts or his family or the 7/11. He was completely relaxed. He looked around the park as if to familiarize himself with every aspect so that when he found another reason to sneak away it wouldn't feel so foreign. He wished he felt comfort as he sat on the swing but it wasn't very comforting to know that when he got back to the hotel he would be with his family and he would have to go back to pretending. He was tired of pretending but he knew he still couldn't be open with them. Stop Tyler. This is a quiet place, and he liked feeling relaxed but the negative thoughts kept cycling as he immediately felt tense again. He felt sad. He wanted to fix it, to make it all go away even for a second but e didn't have his razor. So he downed the rest of his coffee and he ran from the park.  
His feet arrived him to the trees. He grabbed the lowest branch he could find and dropped his bag of junk as he began to climb. He pulled himself into the first branch and lept to the second where he then reached for the third and climbed higher. The rest of them passed in a blur because he was in such a rush to reach the top. He grabbed the next branch. "Hey, elevator boy!" He stopped. The same voice from the hotel had called to him, but this time he found the courage to look at the boy it belonged to. "What are you doing up there?" His bright red shoes were the first thing Tyler noticed but he soon began to see the boy's features in the dark. He had bright red hair and it stood out against his black sweatshirt and skinny jeans. Tyler could also see that he had not nose pierced and a small black hoop hung from the left side. He definitely didn't notice it before, but the boy's nose scrunched when he smiled and the creases by his eyes were a telltale of his happiness. The smile he gave Tyler was adorable and it was contagious, as Tyler found himself smiling back. However, he still couldn't find his voice so he sat very still and stared back.  
The boy laughed. His laugh was quiet a smooth. "Come down here so we can discuss the hostage situation with your Doritos." He laughed and his nose scrunched again. Tyler listened to this boy. He began climbing down at a surprising pace the moment his Doritos were threatened. "I might be into these Reese's Cups too." He bit his tongue with a smile and Tyler jumped from the fourth branch to snatch his bag from the ground. The boy feigned shock and it earned a small smile from Tyler. "Damn Spider-Man!" He joked with a light punch to Tyler's shoulder. "I'm Josh by the way, just so you know who stole your Doritos." Tyler flashed a look of hurt. "Nah, I had Taco Bell earlier. They're safe for now."  
Tyler didn't laugh, he couldn't even smile. The happy place he found within the park was now tainted with the memories of what he did at the hotel before Josh entered the elevator. He didn't feel good anymore, he felt sad and alone. He didn't want Josh asking questions about his behavior in the elevator, but he began anyway. "You seemed down earlier. You ok, man?" Again, Tyler said nothing and Josh could clearly see that something was bothering this boy. He didn't want to pry and make the situation worse, so he took a step back and apologized, "I'm sorry if I bothered you. I was just out here with some friends to smoke and I saw you climbing the tree. I thought maybe you would want to talk, or smoke a little. I have some with me if you're into it?" He pulled a joint from behind his ear that had been hidden by his hat and he held it in Tyler's direction with a hopeful smile. The small gesture made Tyler nervous. He had never smoked before, but he didn't want to give Josh more reasons to laugh at him.  
He thought hard. Maybe if he took it and they smoked, everything would be aright and he would even feel better. But he couldn't. Smoking makes you cough, he watched enough TV to know that he couldn't get away with smoking. He finally shook his head and Josh put a hand up. "Alright cool. No problem." He gave reassuring smile and put the joint behind his ear and out of sight. "You from here?" Tyler shook his head. "Yeah, me either. I'm from Columbus."  
He met Josh's gaze. "Me too."  
"Sick! You go to Worthington?" Tyler nervously nodded his head and Josh cracked another eye-creasing smile. "Why haven't I seen you around? Are you a senior?"  
"Junior," Tyler corrected.  
"Do you take any senior classes?"  
"Music theory." Tyler tried to speak confidently but he could tell his voice was coming out shakily.  
"Fourth block?" Josh asked with excitement in his voice. Tyler nodded as he dug to the bottom of his bag for the Butterfinger. "Do you have lunch fifth block?" Josh continued. Tyler nodded again. "Sick! Dude you should come find me when we get back and sit with us."  
The conversation took a sharp turn when Josh said 'us' and Tyler's stomach dropped. He tried to open his candy bar but it was like his fingers had stopped working. He cursed himself for being so fragile and he thought he must have looked stupid. He wanted so badly to lie to Josh and say he had to leave so he could cry, but this boy had been so nice to him, and they even went to the same High School. Tyler began to ponder the possibility of befriending a senior, but not just any senior; Josh in particular. He needed to draw himself from his thoughts long enough to open his candy bar. "Us?"  
Josh's smile vanished and his expression faded into worry. "Oh. Yeah it's just me and a few friends. Uh. Debbie, Pat, and Pete." He scanned Tyler's face for any sign of upset. "Is that cool?"  
Tyler shrugged. He didn't want to be rude and turn away Josh's offer of friendship but there was the issue of Brendon. "I don't know. I have a friend that's hard to get along with and I don't want to cause any problems."  
Josh's features softened into a look of understanding and oddly enough it put Tyler at ease. "Who's your friend? Maybe we already know him."  
"His name's Brendon. He's a senior too, but he can be-"  
"Super loud, overbearing, and obnoxious?" Tyler cocked his head at Josh's description. "I've met him." Josh's words were short and simple but Tyler couldn't figure out whether they were meant with ill intent or not. "I have a class with him. Quick question though, are you TyJo?" He turned himself to face Tyler and he innocently pointed a finger. Before Tyler could take a bite of his Butterfinger he froze with embarrassment. Josh chuckled and changed the direction of the conversation. "I've heard things about you." Tyler's expression twisted from shock to hurt. Great. This boy has already heard things about him and he probably wanted to walk away right now. "All good things! I promise." He bit his tongue and gave Tyler a genuine smile. "Except that you talk in your sleep," He admitted softly. Tyler heard every word and his face instantly became hot. He was sure his face was the shade of a tomato, and yet Josh continued. "Don't get embarrassed, it's actually kinda cute."  
Tyler didn't think it was possible but his face became even hotter. He felt so vulnerable and he didn't like it. He wished he hadn't climbed down from the tree. Why would Brendon talk about personal things like that? Friends weren't supposed to hurt you. But how did Josh think that  was cute, and why would he tell Tyler? Oh no.  Tyler could feel the words crawling up his throats like little ants. He swallowed hard, trying to keep them down but all at once they spewed from his lips. "Are you gay?"  
"Yeah, I'm gay." He answered immediately and he didn't even bat an eye, but he didn't advance towards Tyler like he thought he would either. "Are you?" Tyler shrugged his shoulders and pushed dirt around with the toe of his shoe. "Nah that's ok," Josh smirked. "I just thought, with all the talking Brendon does, that you two were like, a thing?"  
Tyler snorted and Josh was alarmed at the sudden outburst. "Brendon and I could never be together."  
Josh's smile grew with intrigue. "Why not?"  
Tyler bit into his Butterfinger and began to laugh at the thought of him and Brendon together. He shook his head and swallowed the half chewed candy. "He's sarcastic and crude, and he's way too personal." He took another bite and gestured wildly with the remaining bite of the bar. "Obnoxious, bossy; and I'm just-" He shrugged.  
Josh took a step closer with a laugh. "You're what, man? It can't be that bad." He lightly tapped Tyler's stomach with the back of his hand in a playful gesture and Tyler gasped in pain. He dropped the bag and the candy bar and sunk to his knees with his hands grabbing at his stomach. Josh jumped backward with huge eyes. "What happened? Are you ok?" He bent down to put a hand on Tyler's shoulder.  
"It's nothing." Tyler forced a smile, but when he felt the pain from his shirt pressing against the cuts he hissed.  
"Do you need a hospital or something?" Josh's voice was laced with concern and it only made Tyler feel worse.  
"I'm fine," He tried. But Josh wouldn't let it go. He was now kneeling in the dirt with one arm wrapped around Tyler's shoulders and his hand tightly gripping Tyler's forearm. Tyler turned his head and looked into Josh's eyes. He could see the worry, an emotion he was all too familiar with, so he gave in.  
He hesitantly reached for the hem of his shirt and he slowly pulled it up to his chest. He couldn't meet Josh's eyes when he did it, but he could hear his voice hitch when he saw the fresh cuts. Tyler could feel his heart beating in his ears, he could feel each thump in his head and his eyes were releasing tears before he even thought about crying. He couldn't hear himself think, but he swore he heard Josh utter a low 'Jesus.'  
"Did you do this to yourself?" Josh bent to look closer and he counted nine cuts. His own stomach ached, not from pain or disgust, but out of fear for this boy. He could see Tyler squeezing his eyes shut as he nodded, and in that moment Josh felt completely helpless. He didn't know what to say, or if he should offer Tyler a ride to the hospital. But in the back of his mind he already knew that Tyler wouldn't want to go to a hospital. "What's your name?"  
It suddenly dawned on Tyler that he hadn't given Josh his name, but now that Josh has seen so much he felt so reluctant. "Tyler."  
His answer came out among tears and whimpers, but Josh managed to understand. "Tyler, that's cool." He tried to meet Tyler's eyes, but he refused to look in Josh's direction. "Does anybody know about this?" Tyler shook his head and bit his lip. He didn't want to think about telling anybody else. "Just me?" Tyler nodded and Josh felt a pang in his heart at the affirmation. "You said you weren't from here, so I'm assuming you're on vacation? Are you here with your parents?" Tyler nodded. He then turned to Josh with pleading eyes, communicating without words and Josh understood. "Do you want to come back to the hotel room with me and my friends? You can stay the night and I can take you wherever you need to go in the morning."  
Tyler liked the idea of getting away from his parents for a few hours. It would give him time to think and some space from his sadness. He felt overwhelmingly anxious because he would be sleeping in a room with a strange boy and his friends, but he tried his hardest to push that thought aside and think about how nice Josh was being instead. Tyler would also be away from the razor so he couldn't hurt himself again. He hoped he wouldn't have anymore urges tonight and he met Josh's eyes one more time with a shallow nod. "Please?"


	2. Cause for Concern

The boys  walked in silence to the hotel, and at the time Tyler thought it was better that way but the silence had only left him severely unprepared for meeting Josh's friends. Speaking of the boy, he must have forgotten his key because when they reached Josh's room he began aggressively banging on the door without hesitation.  
A girl with long red hair opened it after the third knock, and Tyler could noticeably see that the look on her face was not one of happiness. "Jesus Christ, Josh!" She gasped as pushed her tangled hair from her tired eyes and looked at the clock on the wall. 'It's two in the morning! Did you forget-"  
She stopped mid-sentence when she caught sight of the smaller black-haired boy standing beside her friend. Her demeanor shifted into one of mockery and teasing, and she took-up a new stance leaning her shoulder against the door frame with a hand placed on her hip. "This isn't one of your midnight pleasures, is it?" She drew out the word 'pleasures' and it made Tyler felt dirty. Did he look like cheap sex?  
"No," Josh snapped. "Debbs this is serious."  
"Alright." She threw herself aside out of what was probably annoyance and pushed the door open wide enough for the boys to slip inside. "Fine." Her smirk failing to vanish.  
Josh promptly lead Tyler into the bathroom a few steps from the front door, without a proper introduction and merely calling a quick "I'll tell you in the morning" to the girl still standing in question.  
Josh then closed the door with his foot, creating a wall of separation between them and the girl called Debby. He told Tyler to take his shirt off and that made Tyler feel even worse. 'Midnight pleasures' sounded like Josh brought a lot of strange boys home with him. So maybe Josh wasn't just being nice and maybe he was  looking to use Tyler. That thought hurt almost as badly as his throat did when he threw up in his own hotel bathroom. But the pain wasn't just emotional, it was physical. Tyler could feel his chest tightening and his head throbbing in rhythm with his heart.  
Josh repeated his command and since Tyler couldn't hear him over his own panicked thoughts and he hadn't responded, Josh took it upon himself to grab the hem of Tyler's shirt and pull it slowly over his head. Tyler grit his teeth as he did so and Josh continuously scanned Tyler's face for pain, but the boy didn't even flinch. He didn't feel anything; he was numb and the entire experience was a blur. Tyler was too wrapped up in the 'what if's' to pay attention. Josh kept talking, though. He knew Tyler wasn't listening, but he wanted Tyler to feel relaxed enough to let him finish bandaging his wounds.  
When Josh was finished he allowed Tyler to put his own shirt back on.  Then, again in silence, he lead Tyler from the bathroom and into the room. Tyler didn't notice, however. He was in a daze. Josh could have lead him into oncoming traffic and he wouldn't have resisted.  
There were two queen beds in the room. Josh walked him to the one furthest from the door; Debby was asleep on the other one, or pretending to sleep so Josh didn't bother speaking to her. He gently sat Tyler down and without asking permission, he keeled in front of him. He took a minute to slip the broken boy's shoes off as he tried gathered his thoughts.  
Josh had no idea what to say or do, he just knew that he was afraid. He was afraid of taking Tyler back in the morning where he could hurt himself again and nobody would be able to stop it, but more importantly he was afraid of not getting through to this boy. Josh had never experienced such rash behaviors and neither had his friends, so he had little exposure to what Tyler was going through. He didn't understand why somebody could hurt themselves out of sadness, but he didn't find it fit to ask. And so, they sat silently; Josh staring into Tyler's eyes and Tyler looking at the floor beside Josh's left foot.  
Tyler hated silence, he was in too deep. He needed to get out of his thoughts. No. What he needed was a distraction so he could stop  reminiscing over the bad thoughts altogether, but he was in a strange place with a strange boy, and the way Josh was curiously staring at him made him anxious. He didn't know if he liked the idea of talking about his problems with anybody and he was too nervous to change the looming subject of sadness that Josh refused to vocalize, so Tyler defaulted to the one thing he knew how to do; write.  
"D-do you have a pen and paper?" His voice was small, nervous and scratchy and Josh was utterly confused at the request. He furrowed his brow and Tyler began to worry when he didn't answer right away. His anxiety consumed more of him when Josh stood and began searching through his things. The red-haired boy was quiet, but he looked determined.  
After coming up empty handed from his suitcase he glanced quickly around Debby's side of the room but found nothing. He then began rummaging through the hotel dresser. With no luck in there either, he bent and unzipped a black backpack. The unfruitful search so far was making Tyler even more anxious and he was just about to call off the search and run screaming out the door when Josh produced a composition notebook from his bag and a black pen with the name of the hotel in fine white font. He stood and bowed triumphantly with a smirk, holding the items in Tyler's direction. "The finest paper for you, good sir," Josh mused.  
Tyler wanted to laugh but he couldn't find the sound, so instead he forced smiled when Josh stood upright. He looked hurt because Tyler didn't laugh, filling the small boy with the want to apologize for making Josh feel bad. His head, however was preoccupied with the constant throbbing and he couldn't think or speak, so he gave another faux half-smile and took the things from Josh's hands. With the absence of a 'thank you' Josh could only assume something serious was on Tyler's mind. He didn't like it, but he walked away from the bed and sat down on the couch to give him some space. It was hard not to pry because Josh desperately wanted to know what he was writing about. A letter, an apology? It was driving him absolutely insane.

-

Does that? No. Scribble.   
What about-? No. Scribble.  
Maybe-. Nah that sounds weird. Scribble.   
But what about-. Yes.  
It worked and Tyler diligently continued writing, scribbling, and crossing out; tapping the pen on his upper lip, the notebook, and his knee; completely unaware of Josh watching him. Because this  was his peace he didn't notice the way Josh licked his lips in thought, Debby's light snoring, or Josh's fingers drumming on the arm of the sofa. It was just Tyler and his pen, the soft scratching of the paper soothing him back into tranquility. After his first few thoughts were scrawled between the lines of the notebook paper Tyler had forgotten about the park, the cuts, and he forgot about Josh. He lost himself in the blue lines and the smooth curve of the ink. He could smell the pen ink on his paper, and he could feel his heart being put there with it. He felt exactly what he wrote and it came out in such a way that he was proud of. He liked what he was creating.

-

Tyler's eyes flickered across the notebook attentively and Josh noticed the slight curve of his lips. Tyler looked happy so Josh continued to watch with intrigue, paying close attention to his body language. Tyler lightly tapped his feet on the floor when he wasn't putting the pen to the paper and he began moving his lips as he read silently to himself. It actually looked like Tyler was having fun. He started to sway from side to side in a rhythm only he knew and Josh was loving it. It was like he was feeding off of Tyler's natural energy. He loved Tyler's focus and he longed to know what had changed his mood so spontaneously.  
"What?" Tyler called innocently, snapping Josh out of his daze and into the realization that he had been caught. Tyler was looking directly at him with wide eyes. His cheeks had a pink tinge to them and his hand that held the pen was now shaking. He was embarrassed. "W-why are you staring at me?" Tyler tried to be brave and demanding, but his voice was small and timid.  
Josh was stunned. He was struck speechless with his mouth agape. Tyler's eyes averted to the floor. "Nah man, don't be embarrassed." Josh stood from the couch and walked across the room to sit beside the still boy. "I'm a curious guy. Besides, your focus is sick." Tyler looked in the other direction, his hands still shaking.  
"I'm sorry," He hiccuped, trying to shuffling away from Josh.  
"Don't apologize dude. I wish  I had that kind of focus."  
Tyler smirked. "Me too. Maybe if I had a Red Bull I could calm down." Josh began to laugh at this and his contagion spread.  
Before they could catch their breath, the boys were face-down on the bed in an attempt to muffle their laughter into pillows which in turn only made them laugh harder each time they tried to sit up for air. Spending a good amount of time laughing left Josh's stomach aching and when he finally sat up he had to wipe tears from his eyes. They had no idea why they thought Tyler's remark was so funny, but neither of them questioned it.  
Josh chuckled again. Hearing no response from the other boy caused him to turn his head, and to his utter surprise Tyler's eyes were closed and his mouth slightly ajar to accommodate his deep breathing.  
Tyler hadn't intended to, but he had been so exhausted from crying and his eyes ached so terribly that he couldn't keep them open any longer, and he fell asleep. Josh smiled at his job well-done and he eased himself off the bed. He was slow and gentle, careful not to wake Tyler. He took the spare blanket from the couch and covered the sleeping boy. When he was finished straightening the blanket over Tyler's body, he took the pen and notebook from the bed and, against his own curiosity, closed it and placed it on the table beside the bed.  
He slipped his shoes off and kicked them towards the front door. He then slid his jacket off his shoulders and flopped lazily onto the couch. He took one last look at Debby and Tyler to ensure they were sleeping and smiled at the peaceful two. The couch was uncomfortable and he would be cold without a blanket, but he decided he would have to make-do with his jacket. He stretched to reach the light switch above him and found sleep within his content thoughts almost immediately.

*

It was noon when Tyler finally woke with the sun beating unpleasantly on his face through the open window, and clothes strewn about the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head, shielding his tired eyes from the bright hot light. He yawned before nuzzling into the pillow. He felt even more tired than he usually had, but he found it pleasantly strange that he hadn't waken in the middle of the night like usual, or awaken fifteen minutes after falling asleep. He found comfort in the new position and he relaxed again.  
It was silent, leaving Tyler to believe the others were still asleep or had gone to breakfast without him, which was fine with him either way. He didn't find the idea of eating in front of them at all pleasing, he would much rather sleep in and skip each meal that day than interact with people at all, and he found momentary solace in the quiet by planning his walk back to the hotel and fabricating a fictional story he would feed to his mother upon arrival. He wasn't as worried about his father or Zack, as they both followed his mother's lead when matters pertained to him. Keeping that thought in mind, he began constructing a more detailed version of his lie to tell Zack; he had hoped that by explaining more to his sibling, he would be let off the hook.  
Tyler continued to think about his future encounter with his mother in great depth, completely unaware that just a few feet away Debby sat typing a message to Josh's friends, inviting the boys to brunch with the trio; or of Josh behind the closed bathroom door, shirtless and towel drying his hair. Tyler thought about how his mother would respond to his overnight absence, until Debby cleared her throat and Tyler was sent practically jumping out of his skin. He tried to remain still through the charade, and listened to the short exchanging of words that occurred next; beginning with Debby shouting "Josh, hurry up!" Followed by a light knock on the wall.  
Josh responded with his own knock, much harder than Debby's and, much louder, and it made her groan with impatience. "One minute!" He called back. Tyler could hear the agitation in his voice, and with Debby's huff he knew she heard it too.  
"You don't have a minute!" She called back. "Pete and Patrick are on their way." At the mention of Josh's two friends from home Tyler felt anxious, and in an confused daze, he sat up straight. Debby jumped at the sudden movement, but she smiled. She knocked on the wall again and called, "Your boy-toy is awake" in a flirtatious tone that made Tyler uneasy.  
He didn't like being refereed to as a toy, it actually hurt him inside; the thought of being openly used by somebody. He scowled, but before he had the chance to speak, as if he would have uttered a single word anyway, the bathroom door was ripped open and Josh sprung out with wide eyes. His skin was visibly wet from a shower and his wet hair still clung to his forehead, but he didn't appear to mind, unlike Tyler who if found in a similar situation would turn cherry red and flee immediately.  
He stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless, dripping wet, smiling, and walking towards Tyler. Debby took this as an opportunity to snatch a pink and black purse from her bed and bound into the bathroom, and with a loud slam of the door she seemed to disappear before their eyes. Josh chuckled at her actions, continually advancing towards Tyler with a cool reassurance. "Don't mind her, she gets excited."  
Tyler nodded as he shrugged the hotel blanket from his shoulders. He yawned again. "What time is it?" He inquired, slightly embarrassed at his childish appearance.  
"Just after twelve," Josh replied. "You have great timing. We're getting ready to meet some friends for food, and you're invited." Josh plopped down on the bed, causing Tyler to bounce a little with a furrowed brow. Josh saw his uncertainty and decided to soften his voice, calming the excitement. "Debby insisted, and we're only meeting Pete and Patrick. You could think of it as a practice run, testing out the friends."  
Friends? Testing? Tyler's brain switched into overdrive and thrust his body into panic mode. He thought quickly, scouring for an excuse for him to skip eating and go directly back to the hotel with his family and tightening his grip on the cheap blanket. "I-I don't have extra clothes," He confessed, sounding a bit out of breath.  
Josh put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and regained his smile. "No worries. You can borrow something of mine." Tyler wanted to protest, but Josh had already risen at the beginning of his offer and began searching through his suitcase for something that may have fit the smaller boy. "I hope you don't have a color preference," Josh chuckled. Tyler didn't. In fact, he assumed that the entirety of Josh's wardrobe was black, by looking at the options he was tossing aside, and shoving back inside the suitcase.  
Tyler didn't want to leave, he didn't want to meet anyone, and he didn't want to borrow clothes. His breathing was labored and he began judging the distance between the bed and the front door, estimating how many steps it would take to get there and how quickly he could take those steps. He then looked at Josh and tried to gauge how quickly the boy could run or if Tyler even had a slim chance of outrunning him. There was no way Tyler could slip his shoes on unnoticed, so he was prepared to leave them there. Sorry mom.  
"This is a little snug on me so it might fit you alright," Josh announced, shoving a black cut-off in Tyler's direction. "I'm not sure how you feel about sharing underwear," Josh chuckled, speaking into his suitcase.

 

The walk to the restaurant wasn't as bad as Tyler assumed it would be; Josh's clothes weren't terribly ill fitting, and Debby was actually very kind. She was generous enough to avoid anything Tyler wouldn't have been able to talk about with her, and the amount of talk she could generate surprised him. He hadn't heard anybody talk so much since, well, ever. He tried not to complain, though, and as much as he tried to escape the conversation with silence, Josh would look over and invite him back in with a 'what about you?'  
Truthfully, it was a painfully anxious walk, and he dreaded every moment of it, but it wasn't as horrible as an average day at his high school, so he took it with a grain of salt. Sure, he would rather have been back in their hotel room sleeping or sitting alone, but Tyler supposed walking with Debby and Josh was better than lying to his mother. However, when they stepped inside the restaurant, it felt worse than lying.  
The server that greeted them wore a blue polo shirt and her long brown hair was tied up in a knotty-looking bun, and despite her smile, Tyler felt unwelcome. He was out of his element and he was sure he appeared so, sitting at the back of the trio with his head down. He wished he could crawl inside of the shirt he was wearing, but it was already awkward enough wearing the clothes of a stranger. He was enveloped with anxiety and his eyes stung again. His mouth was dry and his palms felt like waterfalls, but he couldn't leave; not wearing Josh's clothes, and he didn't want to have a panic attack either, but he couldn't help his racing heart. He was scatterbrained and afraid. Tyler felt like everybody was staring at him, talking about how he couldn't even dress himself with clothes that fit; they aren't my clothes, but of course nobody else knew that.  
He couldn't see properly. His eyes had gone out of focus and he couldn't bring them back in, nor could he stop himself from staring off.  
They're not going to like me. They won't like me. They don't like me. Nobody likes me.  
Tyler could feel a hand on his upper arm, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the black nothingness he was staring into. He could hear Debby's sweetly calling to him, "Tyler?" But he couldn't answer, he was too deep in thought and too deep in self-doubt. He didn't recognize it as doubt at the time, he recognized it as fear. He recognized the dull ache forming in his temples as a migraine, and he wanted to run. He tried to recall the relativity of the park to the restaurant, but he couldn't focus on anything except the voice in his head, screaming to run. "Are you ok?" Debby tried again, this time much closer to his ear, and more gentle. "Tyler?" She firmly squeezed his bicep, and with the other hand, reached for his cheek. She drew the back of her fingers along his hypersensitive skin and gasped loudly as Tyler jumped from the intimate touch.  
He jumped at the touch, jerking his head backwards with a sharp inhale. He blinked exactly three times and looked around; people were staring. Embarrassed, he looked away from the many eyes of customers and he found Debby still looking into his. He met her soft stare, looking between her glossy pupils. He frowned, his brow creasing apologetically.  
Debby didn't say a word, she didn't need to. Tyler could feel her empathy and he lowered his head in shame. Stupid. I'm so stupid. She hates me.  
"Hey," She cooed. Tyler raised his head enough to peek at her through his lashes, standing still and wishing he were invisible. "Come on," She squeezed his arm, much less aggressively than she had before; encouragingly. "I want you to meet Patrick and Pete." She tugged on his arm and he reluctantly allowed himself to be lead through the crowded building. Past employees, tables and customers and finally to a corner booth where three boys sat scrolling through their phones, patiently awaiting the trio's arrival. Josh was seated across from two new strangers,  looking over a menu and lazily scrolling through Facebook. He rose when Debby arrived, allowing her to slide inside before taking his own seat and motioning for Tyler to sit down beside him.  
When Tyler made contact with the faux-leather cushion, he was met with a familiar yellow iPhone. It was held in front of his face. He followed the hand holding it, meeting a crooked smile from Josh as kept his eyes on his own phone. "I plugged it in when you fell asleep. I turned it off, too."  
Tyler took it anxiously from Josh's hand, murmuring a "thank you" under his breath.  
"Wait," The short,  orange haired boy wearing the scarf called from across the table. The direct address caused Tyler to jump. Had he done something wrong?  
The scarf boy lowered his phone, staring Tyler in the eye. "'Thank you'?" He questioned. "He could have looked through it." He pointed an accusatory finger at Josh and furrowing his brows at Tyler. "Aren't you concerned about that?"  
"But I didn't," Josh said lowly as he shrugged his shoulders.  
The second boy, the dark haired boy with frosted tips that sat across from Debby snorted. "Why not?" His eyes never left his phone, but the entire table could tell he was addressing Josh directly.   
Josh snapped his head up, challenging the other boy. "Seriously? Wh-why?"  
"Yeah," The boy scoffed. "Why wouldn't you? Such a sweet opportunity only comes around once in a while." He chuckled, eyeing Tyler from over the top of his iPhone. "Got anything to hide?" He questioned.  
"No." He feigned confidence, but Tyler could feel his face becoming hot at the question, or rather what felt like an accusation.  
"Okay!" Debby interjected with a wide smile, feigning happiness. "So what are you guys getting?" She asked the pair on the opposite side of the table.  
The orange haired boy shrugged. "Probably the cheesecake pancakes with-"  
"Again?" The black haired boy sighed. "You know there's other stuff, right?"  
With the teasing question, the two began bickering. Debby tried to dismiss the disagreement, but Tyler was no longer paying attention, he was staring down at the screen in his lap. The apple icon disappeared and the phone sprung to life, fully charged and vibrating for almost a whole minute as he received a whole slue of notifications.  
Nine missed calls  
Seven new voice messages  
Twelve new texts  
Tyler sucked in a deep breath, completely caught off guard by the messages flashing across his screen.

12:01 a.m.- Mom: Are you on your way back?

12:15 a.m.- Mom: Tyler it's late

12:17 a.m.- Mom: Answer your phone

12:20 a.m.- Mom: Tyler R. Joseph.

12:23 a.m.- Mom: Call me

12:29 a.m.- Mom: Where are you?

12:34 a.m. - Mom: Stop ignoring me Tyler

12:35 a.m.- Mom: Are you ok?

12:40 a.m.- Mom: Tyler please call me. I am very worried

09:22 a.m.- Brendon: Got busted sneaking back in, her lecture put me to sleep this morning. Didn't hear from you last night, everything good?

09:41 a.m.- Brendon: Can Ryan come with us Friday? I know we planned for just the two of us, but he thinks I'm avoiding him and I owe him a t-shirt. You two need to start talking more anyway. I'm inviting him

10:47 a.m.- Brendon: Tyler Joseph, you better not be ignoring my messages.

Tyler felt his heart jump to his throat. He scared his mother by not letting her know where he was, nor that he was not coming back. He needed to let her know that he was fine, and that he was sorry, in fact, he was quite surprised she hadn't called the cops to file a missing person's report. But it was already half-noon and he couldn't argue with her now, not in front of Josh and his friends, not in front of all of these people. So instead, Tyler tapped out a message for his brother.

12:32 p.m. - Tyler: Can you let mom know I'm fine? My phone died last night and I forgot a room key. I'm with some people, I'll explain later.

After he sent the message Tyler tried to rejoin the group, and he looked up just in time to see Josh throwing a balled-up napkin across the table and a server walking over with a small notepad in her hand. It was the same brown-haired girl from the door, and she still wore the same smile. "Hello again," She began. "My name is Karla and I am your server this morning. Can I start you off with some drinks, or have you already decided?"  
Debby looked around the table, meeting each of their eyes before smiling. She began with her order and each of the boys took a turn reciting the name of their preferred breakfast dish. When it was Tyler's turn he felt flustered, he wasn't hungry and he hadn't gotten a chance to look over the menu, so he settled with whatever Debby recommended, but his voice was shaky during his inquiry and his phone vibrated in his hands, nearly sliding to the floor. He caught it with a sharp jolt, which drew the attention of the entire table, and he felt his cheeks growing warm again with embarrassment. He kept his head down, reading the new message, and in the process, missing what Karla said before leaving.

12:34 p.m.- Zack: What's up with you? You're acting really weird Tyler

12:34 p.m.- Tyler: Nothing's up, I'm fine

He panicked, cursing under his breath. If Zack had relayed the message to their mother, he must have done it in a way that would bite Tyler in the ass later. There was no getting out this time, he would have to accept punishment.  
He scrolled back to Brendon's messages and began typing out the first thing that came to his mind; the truth, but he was stopped by Josh's perky voice. "I'm sure you've already heard, but my parents are leaving for Halloween. They're going to New Orleans and I was thinking about having a party."  
"Sounds killer." The black-haired boy whom Tyler now knew as Pete smiled, flashing his sharp canines. He placed his phone face-down on the table for the first time that morning and settled into the seat. "How much alcohol are we bringing?"  
Josh shook his head. "I've got most of that covered, but you can bring whatever you want. If you have something specific you want I can get it Wednesday night. I'll need the money by then."  
Debby bumped Josh's shoulder playfully, widening her eyes at him. Josh shrugged his shoulders, squinting back, but Debby was relentless. She nudged him, softer this time, and raised her brow twice, trying to pass him a silent hint, which he received. He mouthed her a quick 'oh' and turned to look over his shoulder at the slouching boy next to him. "You can come too, Tyler."  
The invitation scared him. He fumbled with the lock button on his phone and watched the screen blacken out before he looked over to Josh's shoulder. "It's ok," He said breathlessly. "Parties aren't my thing." He felt stupid for admitting it out loud, and the laughs that echoed from Patrick and Pete solidified his fear; they didn't like him.  
"No way." Pete sat up straight, reaching diagonally across the table to slap Tyler's shoulder. He pointed a firm finger between Tyler's eyes. "It's initiation time, you don't get a pass." The sinister smile that spread itself across his lips was unsettling. What did he mean by initiation, and why did Tyler even deserve it?  
"Yeah dude," The orange-haired boy, Patrick, agreed. "We all had to go through it at some point."  
Go through what?  "I don't know," Tyler admitted sheepishly. He aimlessly scratched at the back of his neck. He didn't like being the center of the group's focus, and if these were the friends that Josh was smoking with before he found Tyler in the tree, he couldn't  imagine the things Pete meant by 'initiation', nor did he want to.  
Tyler wasn't like Pete, and he certainly wasn't a partier; that was Brendon. Come to think of it, Tyler hadn't actually recalled how Brendon and he became friends. They were polar opposites, and it was often Tyler who kept Brendon on track and out of trouble, he couldn't picture himself in Brendon's shoes, even for a single night. "Brendon and I usually hang out on Halloween," He said quietly, almost under his breath as he feared the excuse wouldn't work.  
"What if he comes too?" Josh mused.  
"Wait," Pete interrupted, reaching his arm across Patrick's chest to grab a fistful of Patrick's shirt. "Brendon? That Urie kid?"  
Oh no. Tyler shrugged. Here it comes.  
Pete slapped his palm on the table. "That kid's wild." Pete's grin had grown and he raised his eyebrows, pointing at Tyler. "If you don't invite him, I  will."  
"Problem solved!" Josh beamed, hi-fiving Pete over the table enthusiastically and fist-pounding Patrick's hand before nudging Tyler in the ribs. "This is gonna be sick."

 

Patrick and Pete whipped through breakfast, ingesting the entirety of their food in under ten minutes, insisting they needed to begin their drive back to Ohio if they wanted to be back by Friday, but it was only Wednesday, and they planned to fly back. Josh tried not to give them a hard time, though. He knew he and Tyler should leave promptly after Pete and Patrick leaving, but he did not expect Debby to leave with them. He nearly begged her to stay, but she refused by claiming to not have talked to her mother since her arrival in California a week earlier, and so Josh allowed her to exit the booth, leaving Tyler and Josh to themselves.  
Tyler's eyes wandered over the four empty plates on the table, ending on the fifth, a full plate; his own. His stomach grew tighter as he thought about the food in front of him. The smell of the pancakes made his stomach churn, and the strawberries were appalling. He had only managed to keep down three bites of a single pancake, the bites being mostly whipped cream, and not a drop of his coffee. Of course Josh took notice to Tyler's lack of eating, "You hardly ate anything."  
"Not hungry," Tyler shrugged, backspacing the message he had typed to Brendon completely, and beginning a new one. "It's no big deal."  
"You said you didn't eat anything last night, either. Why don't you try to eat something?" Josh placed his phone on the table and took-up the concerned look Tyler had already become familiar with from his own mother.  
"I'm not hungry, Josh." He used Josh's name for the first time and it rubbed Josh the wrong way, but not in the way that made him angry. Instead, it frustrated him and filled him with doubt. Maybe this boy didn't want Josh's offer of friendship.  
Josh hung his head in thought; he didn't understand Tyler, at all. How could he need somebody to listen, but reject everybody who offered? How could Tyler deny being in pain when Josh has seen the result of him hurting himself? Finally, Josh came to a reasonable question to ask, "Are you going to be alright if I take you back?"  
"I'm fine," He insisted.  
"That's not what I asked." Josh was quiet, but Tyler froze as if he were screamed at. He stopped typing and slowly raised his head until he was looking Josh in the eye. Josh, with his chest pressed into the edge of the table, was looking at Tyler with pursed lips. His red hair poked out from beneath the snapback he wore backwards, clinging to the thin film of sweat on Josh's forehead. If Tyler squinted his eyes, he supposed it may look like blood, but he didn't want to think about that, so he continued to stare until Josh broke the silence, again. "Will you be ok if I take you back to your hotel with your family? Be honest."  
Tyler looked into his lap and pressed 'send'.

1:57 p.m.- Tyler: Wasn't ignoring you, went for a walk last night and my phone died. Flying back tomorrow. I knew you would get caught, you deserved the lecture. Ryan can come if you don't ditch me again. I'm tied up, I'll explain when I get a minute

"Every-thing ok-ay?" Josh drew out the words and continued to stare at Tyler as he anxiously awaited a reply.  
Tyler didn't acknowledge Josh's question, he was too busy staring at the screen in his lap. He began bouncing his leg as he waited, watching the clock on his phone and staring at the grey side of his and Brendon's chat. No new messages came through. He began tapping his fingers on his thighs and chewing on his lower lip. He was worried that Brendon would be able to tell something was wrong and that Tyler wasn't ok.  
It felt like an eternity to Tyler, but Josh had only been staring at him for two minutes when Brendon replied.

1:59 p.m.- Brendon: Tied up? Tyler Joseph you whore! I want all the dirty details ;)

Tyler sighed, a loud drawn-out breath that washed a huge wave of relief over his entire being. He looked up with a faint smile and was met with a strong look of confusion, smirking as Josh's brows furrowed. "Are you busy Friday?" Tyler inquired on his dopamine high, but as soon as he asked, his smile vanished and his heart began pounding in his ears.  
"Nope." Josh answered, popping the 'p'. It was a quiet pop but to Tyler, it was Earth shattering and he found himself looking at the other customers to see if they heard it too. Josh mimicked him by looking around as well, causing Tyler's face to flush a ghostly white.  
Did Josh find Tyler's self-conscious behavior amusing? Because of his chuckle and his mockery, Tyler began feeling small again.  
Josh poked Tyler gently in his chest. "Neither are you. You're coming to my party, Tyler."


	3. Tickets

"ThingsmoreinterestingthanTheCrucible go!" Brendon spoke quickly and quietly, his words forming into one as he leaned his cheek into his palm, pretending to take notes as their English teacher continued her lecture.  
It was Friday, the slowest moving day of the week; Brendon hated Fridays, and he made sure Tyler hated them too. Friday was the only day of the week when Tyler couldn't focus on his work and was forced to pay attention to Brendon's whining, instead. He sighed deeply, wishing he were still in San Francisco, and began to ponder. He could think of several things that were far more interesting than Arthur Miller's playwrights, but few things could throw Brendon a curve ball. "Your mom in bed," Tyler whispered over his shoulder.  
Brendon tilted his head to bury his mouth in his palm, disappointingly rolling his eyes at Tyler's middle-school insult. "Kerry Hale's chest," He retorted. Tyler turned his head, looking behind him for the big-breasted Junior girl with curly hair. "Don't look," Brendon warned, reaching across the aisle to lightly tap Tyler's shoulder without lifting his eyes from his paper.  
Tyler snapped his head around, snickering at the slap, and trying to contain his amusement. He hadn't paid much attention to the blackboard and now he was completely lost. The bullet points written in chalk didn't make sense, and Mrs. Hill continued rambling about the 'skewed perceptions' the play caused, but Tyler was now paying attention to her hands. She waved them wildly as she spoke, gesturing to nowhere in particular, and making little eye contact with the junior class. He tried to look focused on her monotone voice as he thought. He wanted Brendon to lose his focus, much like he had, and to fold over his desk in laughter, but Tyler was too anxious to think about Brendon.  
It's Friday, the thirty-ith of October, which meant Tyler couldn't focus on spending time with his best friend at the mall because he would have to secretly find something to wear to Josh's Halloween party tomorrow. His mind was reeling; he had never been to a party, much less a Halloween party, and he had no idea what to wear, or if he should waste money on a costume, or if he should buy a new t-shirt and jeans to wear. Josh hadn't told him to wear a costume, but he didn't tell Tyler not to wear one, either. But to Tyler, that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that Josh hadn't spoken a word to him since dropping Tyler off at home Thursday night, he didn't say much of anything then either, and Tyler would never forgive himself for falling asleep sprawled-out across the backseat of Josh's car. Who falls asleep in the back of a stranger's car? Tyler put his hands over his face and pressed the tips of his fingers into his eyes; hard. He pressed until he saw the familiar blobs and lines of light he saw each time he got sick. I'm so stupid, he thought. That's why Josh hasn't talked to me, he knows I'm a loser.  
He released the pressure from his eyes and brought his hands back down to rest on his desk. His stomach ached. Self-loathing came so simply to Tyler, that it no longer felt like self-loathing. Instead, it felt like a conversation going on between himself and somebody else's voice that he could only hear in his head. It was strange to think about one's inner monologue in such a way, but he supposed that was the only way to describe it. Unfortunately, Tyler not only heard this inner voice, but he believed it too; because how could Josh still want to be 'friends' when he didn't speak to Tyler in Music Theory, or in lunch? And it was now eighth block, the last of the day and Tyler still has yet to hear a single word from Debby, Patrick, Pete, or Josh, therefore his inner voice was right; he doesn't matter. He was just some stupid, gullible junior that nobody paid any attention to.  
Brendon began reaching across the aisle again, with the intent to poke Tyler with his pencil, but the bell sounded and the class of juniors made quick work of gathering their things and walking for the door, directly between him and Tyler. Brendon rolled his eyes with a 'tut' and began hastily shoving the things on his desk into his book bag, whereas Tyler neatly placed his things inside of his. Brendon rolled his eyes again, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and remaining in his seat as he waited for Tyler to finish playing maid. "Hurry up T. Ryan's waiting."  
Brendon's nagging again, that means I've done something wrong. Tyler groaned, zipping his bag to one side, because it bothered him to leave the zippers at the top of the bag, and rose to calmly put his book bag over his shoulders. Tyler was confused to see Brendon still sitting. Oh no. Was he waiting for me? "You didn't have to wait," Tyler blurted. "I would've caught up."  
"What?" Brendon stood, haphazardly pushing his chair aside. "Chill dude, it's fine."  
Brendon had turned for the door, and he was walking fast. Tyler followed suit. "So check this out," Brendon called behind him enthusiastically. "I got two tickets for the Haunted Hill," Brendon paused to look for the small junior, making sure he was close behind. "There's usually no chance of getting them so close to Halloween, but Dallon had other commitments, and he just gave them to me."  
So close to Halloween? Crap. Josh's party was tomorrow night, I don't really want to go, but I don't really want to go to Haunted Hill either. Tyler audibly groaned. But Brendon's so excited about these tickets, and he chose to ask me. But Josh is excited about his party, and both Debby and Josh asked me. But Josh will still be excited about his party, he's invited so many people; people that I don't know, and he wouldn't even notice that I wasn't there anyway. He has Pete and Patrick, and they were so hyped about it that they'll probably keep Josh busy the whole time. But what if he did notice?  
Tyler chewed his lip as his anxiety amplified his thoughts. He'll know. Josh will know, and if i don't go, he'll think I was avoiding him. But Josh avoided me, like, all day? Maybe that was an accident? But I can't tell Brendon that I don't want to go, we spend every Halloween together, and Haunted Hill has been on his mind for the past three years. He would be so hurt if I ditched him for the party, and I can't hurt his feelings. But we always hang out, and Brendon could take Ryan instead. But what if Ryan and he are fighting and that's why he asked me? Maybe Ryan won't like it. Wait, did Dallon really give him the tickets or did he buy them himself? Should I ask find Dallon and ask him? No, Brendon would make a big deal if he bought them himself. But those tickets are, like, a hundred dollars each and he knew I wouldn't go if he spent that much. Brendon wouldn't lie to me, would he?  
Why does Debby want me to go? Josh didn't even know I existed, and neither did she. Maybe she was just being nice because she felt bad for me. Did Josh tell her about me? Oh God. He did tell her, didn't he? But Josh said I should go, but there's going to be so many people, and drugs, and drinking, and I don't know any of them, and I've never been to a party. But he seemed so sincere when he invited me. Josh wouldn't lie to me, would he?  
"Watch where you're going Ty," Brendon scoffed as he grabbed Tyler's upper arm and firmly tugged him away from a group of senior girls gathered at the top of the stairwell. He kept a hold on Tyler's arm and lead him down the stairs, around the lingering students and out the back door. He then dropped Tyler's arm and made an abrupt dash for his car which was parked at the back of the lot. Tyler was left gawking at Brendon's back as he ran.  
Tyler was sad. He began the day in a decent mood, due to his afternoon plans, but now he was feeling sick. His stomach was tight with guilt and his face was lined with indecision. How was he supposed to decide between his best friend and utter guilt? But he would feel guilty no matter what he chose because he felt that he owed both Brendon and Josh. He owed Josh for the hotel, for paying for breakfast, and for allowing him to borrow Josh's clothes; and he owed Brendon for ditching him last minute to go to San Francisco with his family.  
Tyler wanted to turn around and run home; he didn't want to face Brendon. He thought best when he was alone, and there was no way he could make a decision with his best friend hounding over his shoulder. Tyler decided then that he would apologize for ditching Brendon again, then he would walk home where he could carefully consider his options.  
"Tyler!" Brendon called as he laid on his horn and swiftly pulled forward. He swung his car around for Tyler to climb into the passenger seat with a toothy grin plastered across his face. "Come on," He called. "I haven't had a cigarette all day, and I need one before we get there." He tapped his hands impatiently on the steering wheel as Tyler opened the back door and threw his bag inside.  
Tyler wasn't sure why he was climbing inside. He wanted to walk home, but now that Brendon was here in front of him, he didn't have the heart to say no.  
Brendon swore under his breath, but he waited until Tyler climbed into the passenger seat to release his anger. "Do you always move like a turtle?" He questioned with a slight shake of his head. "Buckle up, Ryan's waiting." Tyler did as he was told, followed by Brendon peeling out of the school's lot way quicker than he was supposed to.   
After they left the lot, Brendon passed under the yellow light at the intersection and turned towards Ryan's house. Tyler looked out the windshield at the passing students on the sidewalk and the passing cars on the road, but he couldn't help noticing Brendon's flailing in the seat beside him. When he turned his head to ask why Brendon was frantically searching his pockets, he noticed Brendon's eyes had been off the road so he could rummage through the middle console. Tyler instinctively took the wheel. Brendon sighed a desperate "Thank you" and removed his left hand from the wheel. Tyler noticed a lone cigarette held between Brendon's lips, but it wasn't lit. "M-maybe you should take the wheel, and I'll look for you," He suggested.  
"It's not fucking here!" Brendon growled. "Where, the fuck, is my lighter!" He yelled between breaths, and even though Brendon hadn't directed the question at him, Tyler felt guilty.  
"Maybe y-you left it at your-"  
"No-no, no-no," Brendon laughed angrily. "I never leave without one. I always have one."  
"Did you check your-"  
"Ha!" Brendon shouted. The outburst startled Tyler. His body stiffened and he jerked the wheel. The car shook them from side to side until Tyler could get the wheels straightened out again. His action went unnoticed as Brendon continued to chant, "Gotcha you slippery little fucker!"  
Brendon sucked hard when he saw the flicker of the flame, and he could hear the tube beginning to burn, completely unaware of the panic attack swelling within his friend. He slipped his thumb off the button, the flame died, and he fell back into his seat as the smoke curled inside his lungs. He held his breath for a moment and allowed himself to relish in his relief.  
Tyler tried to calm his nerves over Brendon's hysterical laughing, but he was shaken from nearly hitting an on coming car. His breath quickly became harder to catch and his jaw shook each time he tried to fill his lungs. Tremors overtook his body and he became incapable of holding the wheel, so his fingers slipped away without a word. Brendon used his knee to retake his car but he was far too focused on slowly exhaling a white cloud to notice Tyler. Tyler wanted to speak, but that familiar block was blocking his throat and it was making it excruciatingly hard to breathe. He could feel the bile churning in his stomach, preparing to force itself from Tyler's mouth the moment he tried to speak. He could hear Brendon humming between puffs and he tried to focus on it. He listened to the unfamiliar tune but it wasn't helping. It was coming. He needed to get out of the car.  
He clasped a hand over his mouth and reached his arm across Brendon's chest while he was in mid-drag, balling up his shirt in a tight fist. "Hey," Brendon coughed, forcing the remaining smoke from his lungs. "What the hell Tyler?" He demanded with another cough, but Tyler couldn't move. He was stuck, holding his breath and begging not to be sick in Brendon's car. His vision was tunneling and it felt like the world was spinning around him. He slumped forward and hung his head. Brendon took his eyes off the road just long enough to see Tyler's head connect horribly with the dash, and with that, he pushed his cigarette between his lips and put a hand on Tyler's back. "Ty? Tyler what's-" Tyler tightened his grip on Brendon's t-shirt. It was almost here.  
Brendon wrapped his fingers around Tyler's shoulder and hauled him backwards to lean into the seat. Tyler's eyes were tightly shut and his face was a ghostly white. He could see small beads of sweat dripping down Tyler's temple, and Brendon knew what was happening. He recognized the look on Tyler's face as the same one he had when Tyler's parents told the kids they were getting a divorce.   
"Hey!" Brandon called. "Tyler are you gonna puke?" His voice was dripping with concern and it made Tyler feel worse. His heart was pounding, he could hear it in his ears and he could feel the bullets of sweat sliding down his face and down his neck. He couldn't nod, but he managed to open his eyes, and it was that simple flicker of his eyes in his best friend's direction that was enough. "Jesus Ty, hang on."  
Brendon removed his hand from Tyler's shoulder. He firmly gripped the wheel at ten and three, and turned it. The car sharply turned across the left side of the road, narrowly avoiding a Volkswagen Beetle. He stomped on the break when the front tires touched the grass on the side of the asphalt.  
They were thrown forward at the sudden stop and Brendon wasted no time jumping from the car and tearing his best friend out of his seat belt, dragging across the middle console, and out the driver's door. Tyler wriggled free and collapsed into his hands and knees in the grass, his stomach not giving him even a second to think before it squeezed and emptied its contents. He could feel Brendon's hands sliding around his back, his attempt at comforting Tyler. It was a nice gesture, but it made Tyler feel like garbage to be vomiting while being held in his friend's arms. His stomach heaved three times before it was emptied, leaving Tyler exhausted and sore.  
When Tyler knew he was finished, he fell into Brendon's chest and attempted to suck in a deep breath. The smoke from the cigarette still hanging loosely between Brendon's lips and the smell of Brendon's cologne filled Tyler's lungs, and the mixture forced him to cough. It was a rough wet cough and it loosened the bile from the back of his throat. He pulled away from Brendon's grasp long enough to clear his throat and spit. The taste, however, remained. He sighed and reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled back into his best friend's embrace.  
Brendon leaned backward until he could comfortably sit on his butt with Tyler between his legs. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and flicked it on to the asphalt behind him with a groan. He pulled Tyler closer into his chest for a tight hug. He could feel each shallow breath Tyler took, and he assumed his friend was crying. He didn't need to ask why, and he didn't need an explanation. In fact, he should have seen it coming; Tyler wasn't holding himself together very well during their last block, but Brendon dismissed it as boredom. Oh, how he was wrong.  
He ran a hand mindlessly over Tyler's hair, smoothing it back down before he firmly kissed the top of his head. "It's okay," He cooed. "It's over, and I'm here for you." He traced his fingertips over Tyler's hairline and down to his cheek where he used the back of his fingers to wipe away Tyler's tears. When he thought Tyler was finished, he began rubbing circles into his back and humming softly. It wasn't any tune in particular, but Brendon liked it, and so did Tyler. It was a soft and slow tune that they both found to be calming, and it soothed Tyler. Brendon's hug, his kiss to Tyler's head, his humming; his comfort was all Tyler needed right then.  
It amazed Tyler how in the worst of times, Brendon stuck around. He must have gotten tired of Tyler's whining, his crying, and his low mood a long time ago, but he never said any different. He comforted Tyler without a complaint, for as long as he needed it and Tyler couldn't have been more grateful. Neither could Brendon. He loved his best friend, despite the mood swings. Tyler held a special place in his heart that he wouldn't trade for the world.  
After what felt like only a few seconds to Tyler, Brendon was breaking the silence and kissing the top of his head again. "Let's just forget everything and go back to my house." Tyler smiled at the offer and he could feel Brendon's fingertips ghosting over his cheek again to dry the lingering tears. "Sarah can make us some hot chocolate and we can watch whatever you want." He placed another kiss on the top of Tyler's head, a much gentler and a much longer one while Tyler mulled over the idea.  
He liked the sound of relaxing and forgetting about interacting with people in public, so Tyler said yes. He nodded his head just enough for Brendon to feel and break the connection between his lips and Tyler's hair. He rested his cheek on his friends head and squeezed him one final time before they stood, brushed themselves off, and climbed back into the car for their short drive to Brendon's home.  
Brendon lit another cigarette before shifting the car into drive. He made sure to put his lighter in the cup holder before they left. He also made sure Tyler was buckled and lightly sipping from a bottle of water to soothe his throat. Brendon suggested that he recline the seat back and close his eyes, so he placed the bottle of water between his legs and took another deep breath to calm his nerves. He then pulled the lever on the side of the seat and fell back into the cushion with an 'oof'.  
Brendon put a reassuring hand on Tyler's knee. "Don't worry TyJo." He used his fingers to rub Tyler's kneecap through his jeans, providing the smaller boy with a distraction while Brendon thought. He hated seeing his best friend upset and he hated that Tyler would get so worked-up that he made himself sick, but he supposed that wasn't completely Tyler's fault.  
He didn't want to seem rude and offer any food so he tried to think of a drink, full of calories, that Tyler really enjoyed. "Sarah makes these killer lattes with the Keurig her mom bought us. I personally like the Pumpkin Spice and the Mocha ones, but she can make a dozen different kinds." He took his eyes from the road for a split second to check on his friend. Tyler's right arm was bent over his face to cover his eyes, and his left hand was slowly rubbing circles around his stomach. His lack of a reaction made Brendon's heart sink. "But you're more into sweet things, so you might like her hot chocolate better. She uses an entire Hershey bar and cocoa powder, she also makes this amazing chocolate whipped cream."  
Brendon'seyes flickered back to the red light they were quickly approaching. He slowly applied pressure to the break and used his left knee to keep the wheel straight while he took a long drag from his cigarette. He felt the smoke sliding down his throat to settle in his lungs, and when he exhaled, he released it slowly and watched the wispy cloud curl towards the roof of the car. The light was still red so he decided to take another drag, but he didn't inhale the smoke right away. He sucked hard, without inhaling, filled his mouth as much as he could, and opened his lips just enough to let the smoke flow out. As he did this, he inhaled through his nose. Brendon was halfway through the cloud when Tyler softly called to him.  
"Bee?"  
"Wha-" Brendon began, but the smoke caught in his esophagus. He snorted, doubling over with wide eyes as he choked. The smoke spewed from his lips with each nasty cough, and he actually considered laughing at himself when he finished. But he didn't have time to laugh because before he could lift his head, the driver behind him was honking and screaming out of his window for Brendon to 'move his fucking ass.'  
"Alright, alright!" He yelled while staring at the antagonist in the rear view mirror. He stepped on the gas, passing under the green light with a head full of crude remarks. He flicked his cigarette out of the open window and ran his hand through his hair to calm himself before speaking again. "I'm sorry Tyler. What were you saying?"  
Brendon's voice was gentle and caring, and Tyler liked hearing the soft tone. "Can you hum again? P-please?" Tyler chewed his lip in embarrassment; he didn't want Brendon to laugh at his serious request. "The same thing you were humming earlier? I have a headache." His cheeks grew warmer. Tyler tried to hide more of his face with his arm, but Brendon didn't laugh and he didn't question Tyler, he simply entertained the thought and began humming.  
Brendon tried to stay focused on humming the same tune as he drove, but he then found himself drifting over the yellow lines and going too fast or too slow. He became hyper aware of the cars around him, even the ones that weren't on the road and he subconsciously yielded to the parked cars. But it wasn't until they turned onto his road that he lost the tune and began compulsively humming out of key. Tyler noticed the change. He found it amusing and he decided not to say anything to his struggling friend. When they pulled into Brendon's driveway, he stopped humming altogether.   
Tyler had been there a thousand times, but when he got out of the car Brendon raced to his side. He wrapped an arm around Tyler's lower back in a friendly manner and he lead the silent boy inside. Brendon closed the front door with his foot and slipped out of his leather jacket, his arm never drifting far from Tyler. He then took Tyler's jacket and hung it in the closet next to his own, followed by placing their shoes just inside the doorway. Tyler kept his eyes on the floor, and when Brendon replaced his arm around Tyler's midsection, he smiled; he behaved as though he thought caring for Tyler was a blessing, and as he lead Tyler through the house towards the living room he caught Tyler smiling too.  
As they walked through the kitchen, Sarah stopped them with a confused expression. She placed a loving hand on Brendon's cheek and began rubbing circles into his skin with her thumb. "Pumpkin and a chai?" She questioned with a frown. Brendon nodded in response and continued to walk Tyler into the living room.  
Tyler gave no resistance as Brendon sat him on the couch with a blanket and the TV remote, and when Brendon took his place wedged in the corner, Tyler leaned backwards into his chest. Brendon welcomed him, stretching out beneath him and allowing room for Tyler to comfortably lie against him. He then used his free arm to cover both of them with the fuzzy purple blanket Brendon took from Sarah's chair. Tyler curled up beneath it, nuzzling his head into Brendon and focusing on the rise and fall of his friend's chest.  
Tyler's heart was still racing even though he was sick already. Maybe it was because Brendon would ask about earlier and Tyler wasn't ready to talk about it. It was so stupid of him. Brendon would understand his dilemma, and he would probably encourage Tyler to go to Josh's party for the soul purpose of 'getting some' with a hot guy. Maybe Tyler wasn't ready to talk about Josh because of what happened in San Francisco, and he definitely wasn't ready to tell Brendon about what he had done. In fact, now that Tyler had thought about it, he had been careful to avoid the entire topic since he arrived back in Ohio.  
He wasn't ready for Brendon's judgement, nor was he ready to be "mothered" by his best friend. There was no doubt that Brendon meant well and there was a part of Tyler that loved Brendon's incessant nagging, but this time was different. Brendon would be angry. What if he didn't want to be friends anymore because I'm stupid and I'm selfish? He began to chew his lip down to the last layer again as he tried to resolve his internal conflict. As the metallic-like taste of blood hit his tongue and the familiar sting shocked his lip, Tyler suddenly wanted to be as far away from Brendon as he could. He wanted to throw the blanket off and run out the front door without his shoes or his coat, and he wanted to run home and hide in his room; in the pitch dark, but before Tyler could gather his thoughts, Sarah had entered the living room and placed two steaming mugs onto the coffee table. Brendon thanked her with a subtle nod and simply waved her a silent goodbye as she walked to the door to leave for work.  
She left the two in silence, and Brendon had just began flipping through the movie channels when Tyler's conscience had finally gotten the best of him.  
Tyler hastily turned over, shoving the blanket onto the floor and collapsing on top of Brendon who then jerked in response to Tyler's sudden weight. He looked down into Tyler's wide and terrified eyes. Tyler's change in position left a look of sheer terror on his face, his heart beating faster and his body becoming cold. He wasn't sure if he could do this. Tyler's eyes left Brendon's and wandered about the room, he couldn't physically bring himself to look at his friend a moment longer. He's going to be so upset, he thought. "I have something to tell you," He finally said under his breath. "But I don't want you to get upset."  
 Brendon tried to slide backwards to gain a better vantage point over his friend. At the slight adjustment, Tyler's eyebrows knit together and his eyes drifted back to Brendon's. "Hey are you okay?" Brendon cleared his throat to gather his thoughts properly. "What is it Tyler, and why would I be upset?"   
Tyler shrugged. "I dunno, but I have to tell you before I talk myself out of it."  
He took a deep breath and for a moment Brendon thought Tyler's eyes became glossy. "Ty, hey it's okay." He spoke softly, reaching for Tyler's shoulders in an attempt to comfort the smaller boy. "What's going on?"  
"C-can I just talk for a second?" Tyler asked shyly, continuing anyway and without Brendon's approval. "I met somebody in San Francisco and he-" Please don't be mad. Please don't be mad. Please. Tyler lowered his head and shrugged his shoulders. "He let me sleep in the hotel room he was staying in with a friend of his, and he was really nice to me." Brendon's brow furrowed with concern but Tyler had been too nervous to look his friend in the eye. "He let me borrow some clothes and he even drove me back to Ohio because I needed some space from my family. None of that matters anyway, what I need to tell you is that he's from here and he invited me to a party that he's having tomorrow night, well him and his other friends invited me, and he goes to our school Bren. His name is-"  
Brendon cut Tyler off with a scoff, raising his hand in the air and rubbing his closed eyes with the other. "Honestly Tyler, please don't say Josh Dun."  
Tyler jumped and he was sure Brendon had noticed. "Wh-"  
"That kid's bad news Ty," Brendon interrupted. "Definitely not somebody you should be involved with-"  
"My parents said the same thing about you," Tyler added shyly.  
"Tyler," Brendon pleaded. "We've spent every Halloween together, and I was really looking forward to Haunted Hill this year. I heard they've added so many new scares, the internet is going crazy over their new additions," He said in sing-song.  
"What about Ryan? I thought you had a date or something tomorrow night?"  
"Yeah," Brendon sighed. "He got an invite to Josh's party too." He then pressed his fingers to his lips in thought. "Which is weird because they don't talk, ever, but there's no way I'm going." He laughed. "Stupid Halloween party with a bunch of kids drinking shitty liquor-"  
Tyler suddenly and noticeably dropped his head; Brendon stopped. "Haunted houses are your  thing. I just thought it would be cool to do something different for once." As Tyler continued his voice became smaller and smaller. He hadn't intended to get quiet, but the amount of heartbreak he felt was crushing even though he didn't really want to go to Josh's. He supposed it wasn't about the party, however, and maybe it was about Brendon. Was it?  "You-" No. Tyler stop.  
He tried to talk himself down from the metaphorical ledge he walked himself onto, but the words just kept coming as if they were little ants crawling up his throat. This is stupid. Don't argue.  He tried to swallow the ants, but there were so many of them and they got caught on the block in his throat, piling on top of each other until they reached the back of his tongue. They forced themselves past his teeth in a whisper, like a wave crashing onto the shoreline with reckless abandon. "You aren't my mom." Way to go Tyler.  
At the very least, Tyler had expected Brendon to say something back, perhaps make a remark about his actual mother or maybe how selfish Tyler was being. What Tyler wasn't expecting was calm. When he looked back to Brendon he was silent. His face expressionless, he didn't even sigh. He met Tyler's eyes without hesitation. "I know."  
Two words was all it took for Tyler's anger to fizz away, only to be replaced with guilt. Of course Brendon knew he wasn't Tyler's mother and of course Tyler didn't entirely mean it, but he didn't know what else to say. He was so used to Brendon being the 'mom' friend and making decisions for Tyler, but his time Tyler wanted to make his own decisions. Halloween wasn't really his holiday, anyway. He just rolled with the flow because Brendon's excitement was enough for the both of them. But then again, maybe Brendon was just upset because he'd always planned the holiday for them, not that Tyler was complaining about that either. They had spent the past six years at Brendon's, watching movies and drinking themselves into sickness, and Tyler had been more than fine with the same regime for six years but now that somebody else had stepped into his life with the potential of improving his, he wanted to jump on it.  
Sure Tyler knew nothing about Josh, or Debby, or Pete, or Patrick. Wow. I really didn't think this through. But something felt okay. Something was clawing at his insides, begging him to go to that party-  
"But Tyler, you have to understand where I'm coming from." Tyler snapped from his thoughts and regrettably met Brendon's eyes. He definitely regretted it, because now Brendon looked sad? Disappointed?  Tyler wasn't entirely sure, but he knew it wasn't anger hiding behind those amber eyes. "You haven't experienced enough of High School to handle yourself at a party, of all places." He shook his head and rolled his head to the side. "You can't even speak in front of our English class where you know everybody,  but you want to go to a party at some guy's house?"  
Tyler shrugged.  
"You don't know?" Brendon stared at him with his nose scrunched. Tyler knew the look very well. It was a look of hurt and it made Tyler's stomach clench into a tight knot. "You just met him! Who's best friend are you, Tyler?"  
Tyler frowned. He knew exactly where Brendon was going with his argument, but he refused to allow himself to become subject to Brendon's guilt-trip. "It's not about you," He muttered under his breath. "I just wanted to try something new. I might not get another chance to go to a party in High School. I thought it would be cool if we did something different."  
"Haunted Hill is  different Tyler!" Brendon threw his head backwards with a loud scoff. "Have you not been listening to anything I've been saying?"  
Tyler didn't respond. He thought it would be best for him to keep his head down because if he was being honest with himself, he would never make it out the door if he bolted. Brendon would catch him and it would only make the situation worse, if that was even possible. But Tyler knew in the back of his mind that he couldn't remain silent forever, no matter how hard he tried. Brendon would eventually say something stupid, as he always did, and Tyler would get mad.  
Tyler took a shallow breath and began. "I'm not trying to ditch you, Brendon. We do the same thing every year. I mean, I understand it's kind of become tradition but I just thought that maybe we could do something different this year."


End file.
